but surely someone lived along this road. Better yet, maybe she could find an abandoned structure to seek shelter in—a place where no one would be present to turn her away.
Regardless, she could not remain as she was, sitting along a darkening roadside in the Lancashire moors. If she did, she’d have far more than the weather to fret about.
Any number of beasties could come upon her and determine that she was a tasty treat. Not to mention the treacherous landscape of the moors. She would be as good as dead if she did not find a place to lay her head, and soon.
The first cool drops of rain splatted against her face as she quickened her steps, her gaze ever moving in an effort to spot a sturdy structure. Coming to a winding path, leading through a tree thickened area then up a steep incline, she paused.
The dratted path disappeared over the top of a hill, and she could not see beyond it. Yet it appeared to be used. The grass had been driven over by carriage wheels and trampled by feet and hooves frequently enough that it gave way to dirt in most spots. Perhaps there was a house up there? But if she were wrong?
Elspeth shook her head and gazed down the road before her. Nothing. She saw not a thing save for endless dirt flanked by rolling hills, thickets of trees, and overgrown grass. She could walk for miles more before coming to another opportunity for shelter, and the rain had turned torrential.
A flash of lightning cast everything around her in bright blue light, and she decided whatever lay at the end of this path was her best chance at survival. With a stiff wind stinging her cheeks and whipping her hair free of its pins, she raced up the path.
When she reached the top of the hill, her heart delighted at the sight of a grand ramshackle house. Its window frames peeled and dropped, while pieces of facade hung precariously from the edge of the house. The gables sagged, and Elspeth could not help but notice how untamed the landscape around the house was. She couldn’t give a fig about any of it.
Elspeth clutched her valise in one hand and her soaked skirts in the other. Then she ran neck-or-nothing through the raging storm and gathering darkness. She would be safe.
Leastwise for tonight.
The stone porch steps were firm beneath her feet despite the chips and cracks that marked their surface. She’d seen no light glowing from the windows nor any smoke billowing from the chimney’s as she’d made her way to the house. Still, she paused at the door.
Elspeth raised her hand to the moss-covered knocker, then tapped it against the door as the roll of thunder shook the foundation beneath her half-boots. Her heart raced as lightning lit the surrounding sky. A moment later, she tapped the knocker against the door again.
No one answered, and she decided her first impression must be correct—the place was abandoned. Reaching for the nob, she tried the door then released a pent up breath when it creaked open. Lightning flashed, casting the old receding hall in bright light as she stepped inside. A moment later, she found herself veiled in darkness.
The brief bit of light had shown her that no furniture adored the entry hall, but there were two doors—one to the left, and another straight ahead. Something about wandering through the dark, rundown house made her uneasy, but she wanted a place to rest. The marble floor in the hall would not bring her any comfort, so she made her way to the door ahead of her.
Her heart pounded as she stepped lightly toward the door. A few feet from reaching her goal, lightning flashed again. Her heart caught in her throat, a small scream reaching from her throat as she jumped at the sight of a man standing in her path.
Where the devil had he come from?
She gulped in air as she willed herself to calm. The brief illumination had not allowed her a good look at him, but she saw enough to know he was gentry. Perhaps lord of the manor. Certainly not a ghost, for he’d been quite solid.
She mustered her courage and said, “Excuse my intrusion. I fear I found myself without shelter in the storm.” She thought to smile, but in the darkened room’s shadows, he’d not see her friendly gesture. Instead, she offered her name. “I am the Duchess of Darby,